Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts

23 September 2011

Mother-Guilt Archetype & Family Obligations


Most of us are familiar with the Mother Archetypes in our society--one of which is the passive-aggressive mother who tries to make you feel guilty for living your own life because it doesn't coincide with what she wants or needs. As exemplified by messages like "I had to go to the doctor yesterday...in case you care..."

A friend of mine is dealing with this sort of mother, who has a long track record of showing little or no concern for her daughter's happiness, nor at all appreciative of her daughter's wonderful
qualities. Her only contribution to the mother-daughter relationship is criticizing, dismissing, minimizing her daughter's feelings, wishes or challenges. 

Recently my friend was victimized by her mother's guilt trips about not "coming home" enough (out of state), and that it was somehow a mistake to move so far away from family. The point that seems to be missed by overbearing, passive aggressive, self-absorbed mothers like this, is that if your daughter feels like she has to move to ANOTHER STATE to get away from you and be happy, there's an issue that isn't about your daughter's poor choices.

This friend of mine is currently worried about her grandmother's health, and that she might not be around much longer. And she's anticipating the issue of her grandmother dying, and then knowing she simply cannot afford the trip back to her family's state. She had just made one recently to deal with other dramas in the family and can't do it again anytime soon. She'd probably have to take a week off from work again, like she did when her grandfather died, and she can't ask for more time off for awhile without endangering her job and her financial status. She was already making up the time she missed to go home recently, by working late almost every day. So she anticipates the guilt-trips and emotional blackmail that will certainly follow, should her grandmother pass away anytime soon. 


I could see that the situation could use some reframing.

So I told my friend that we now live in a different world than the generation of her mother. People are moving around more and the economy is in the toilet and everyone is struggling. The point is, you can only do what you can do, and the guilt trips from her mother are about her mother's issues, not anything my friend is doing wrong.

I said that people nowadays miss things like funerals and weddings and hospital visits, because life is hard, finances are strained, and we're all generally scattered and not living near our parents and other relatives.

And the deeper issue here is that whether or not you believe in souls, it's about that person who died, and your relationship with them--not your relationship with everyone else. If they do have a soul and there is some higher existence after the death of the body, then they would not have petty human emotions anyway, would know you love them and wanted to be with them to say goodbye or honor them at a memorial or funeral if you could. And they would feel your love for them no matter where you were geographically. So the guilt-trip aspect puts limits on the limitless nature of something like that.

Contrarily, if you don't believe in the soul and any form of life after death, then it's that the person has died and is completely unaware of anything anyone does and so it's a moot point.

So the feelings of the other people about what you are and are not doing to honor a loved one who has died, is THEIR ISSUE and has little to do with who you are, or what you're responsible for. All in all her mother's arguments against my friend's decisions and her choice of where she calls home is about what her mother wants and needs and has nothing to do with what her daughter wants and needs, so ultimately, it's all about being selfish and not about being loving or supportive. Thus, it's her mother's issue and my friend doesn't have to get sucked into that void.



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06 July 2009

What Money Can Buy

I was at the store, returning some merchandise and then grabbing a few things while I was there. When i checked out, I used two gift cards, expecting to still pay a remainder in cash, since I had bought three shirts. I was pleased to see that the bill was not as high as I expected, and then started for the door. halfway there, I noticed the shirts were still draped over the basket, but they had been right there in plain site of the cashier. As I neared the security device, I thought Well, if these were not paid for, that thing will go off...it didn't, so I continued on, my mind full of the next hundred things I needed to do. When I got out to the Cherryot, (the name I gave my new-to-me red Blazer) I dug the receipt out and looked it over. All the stuff in bags was listed, but the shirts weren't on the receipt. I checked the other two gift card receipts. Not there either.

This is the part where you have to make those crucial decisions about your own ethics.

Everything had been going so well for me lately. My luck had finally shifted. All that past bitterness about always being the best person I could be, even when there was no reward and seemingly many punishments for it, had dissipated. Maybe three free shirts is my karmic reward for all the crap I went thorough, and all the times I did the right thing, even if everyone else did otherwise. Even if it cost me dearly. Even if it hurt like hell. And I thought maybe this was my little treat from the Universe.

I started to sense that gnawing little guilt-beaver in my gut...

Bullshit, came the other, more discerning voice in my head. Go pay for the shirts.

I knew that I would not have made it out of the parking lot with those shirts, anyway. I would have been watching for cops, getting paranoid...Just because I didn't get caught, didn't make it okay. The fact that I had a tiny moment wherein I tried to justify an unethical decision, made me feel even worse about it. That's when I knew I musn't ever let some misplaced bitterness alter what I believe myself to be, at my core. And someone who takes advantage of an oversight like that, is simply not who I wish to be.

I went back inside and explained it to the clerk. She touched me on the arm and said, "Thank you. Most people would have kept going."

"You're welcome." I told her.

She was effusive in her gratitude, saying that it would have come out of her check. No telling what that could have meant for her. It wasn't much, but it still mattered.

Still, I know I didn't do it for that reason--I hadn't even thought of that. I did it because it was who I wanted to be. I gave her the cash to settle up, and on my way out of the store, I felt lighter, and smiled. Guilt gone. Proud to be me.

Sometimes money really can buy peace of mind.



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17 November 2005

Insomnia, Sex, Guilt & MahJongg



There are several things that have kept me from writing lately. So I thought the only way I was going to get back to writing, was to write about what's been keeping me from writing.

One is a good reason that most people wish they had. I've been having lots of sex. I'm in the throes of a new relationship and everything is fresh and exciting. And the sex just happens to be really great, and that makes me want to continue to have it--especially since my self-imposed two year celibacy, where my only lover had a high and low switch and plugged into the wall. But now our hormones have calmed a bit. Well mine has. Hers is still uncannily like those of a 19 year old boy. I fear she has testosterone poisoning. She would throw me down at least five times a day if I let her. But I'm satisfied, and so I don't need to be thrown down quite that often. My hormones, I suppose fall into the "normal" range. I only require sex an average of 5 times a week.(wink wink). I think it's good to nurture the other aspects of a relationship, and if you're just doing the nasty all the time, you miss out on getting to know someone, heart and soul. And it makes it exciting if you wait a while between the slap and tickle sessions. My current partner assures me that it feels just as good no matter how many times a day I do it. Ironically, not too long ago, I was wishing that I had more than zero sex life. I won't say "be careful what you wish for" because that implies that I'm suffering some sort of punishment, when really I am basking in the sincere and passionate favors of an attentive lover. I shall not for an instant insinuate that this is a bad thing.

Another reason why I have been remiss with my literary endeavors, is directly due to insomnia and indirectly to guilt and obligation. I have been going through my usual phase of sleeplessness, and this leads to sleeping all day. When she comes home from work, I feel it is my duty (as well as my pleasure) to spend time with her. So when I am waking up, she is returning home and thinking about passing out from exhaustion right after I serve dinner. That means I'm wide awake, and ready to write and do other various and sundry things, to include, but not limited to moving furniture around, creating a painting, or filing that stack of papers that have accumulated on my desk. I've tried taking that prescription sleep-aid my doctor gave me, but all that does is make me sleepy for 14 hours after I take it. But if I don't take it, I don't sleep. I've tried the more holistic solutions of warm milk, herbal tea, and such-even alcohol. But none of them make me go to sleep. Some have sent me to bed long enough to lie there and think about the bazillion things I could be doing, but none of them deliver me into the loving arms of the Sandman.

The other culprit is MahJongg. That maddeningly addictive tile matching game from the Orient that has me glued to my computer monitor-click-swish-click-swish-until my eyes feel like they are made of bamboo. My theory on this addiction is that the game appeals to my great need to make order from chaos. And what could be more orderly than matching up symbols and clearing a page?

Because of this odd schedule, I am also off my schedule for taking my thyroid meds, and that can lead to all kinds of nasty side effects like. . . lethargy in the daytime, brittle nails, dry skin, easy bruising, poor vision and the loss of large amounts of hair (although, I have yet to see any hair fall off my legs. . .i suspect it's some cruel ironic joke from the Universe that the hair I wish would fall out, never does).

All of these things have resulted in a guilty, sleepy, hair-losing lump of nocturnal protoplasm.

So, to recap: insomnia, sex, guilt, and MahJongg. Heed well, my children. These are instruments of the devil.


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